


Feast

by Daddy_Fluff (Agent_Fluff)



Series: Fucking Holidays [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dildos, Fisting, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Fluff/pseuds/Daddy_Fluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving was right coming up on him. In just a few hours, actually. He'd spent all day preparing a grand feast, complete with a turkey stuffed to the brim with steaming stuffing, yams with a marshmallow topping, mashed potatoes with a thick, savory gravy, jellied cranberries, and, to top everything off, a beautiful pumpkin pie. And none of it was for eating. Except the yams and jellied cranberries. He'd promised to bring some kind of side dish to the Dakota household, and he was going through with that; so he wrapped the yams up with cling wrap and stuffed it in the fridge to chill while he spent some sweet alone time with the decadent buffet before him. Wash took in a deep whiff of the delicacies sitting perfectly on his table. How innocently they were perched, like something out of a home catalogue. If only they knew the true purpose of his cooking endeavor.</p><p>Sequel to Pumpkin Spice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feast

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't beta this one, so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: PLEASE don't try this at home. This is a work of fiction intended to be sinful for you readers and not to inspire you to make the same decisions. Have safe sex and don't risk putting sugar near your genitals.

Holidays are always great for Washington. He got some of the best food in his life and avoided his family at the same time. A true win-win situation. Of course, over the years he grew to love the holidays more than anyone he's ever met, eventually crossing the line from over-the-top festive to weirdly aroused by all the festivity. Pleasing himself with anything relating to that month's holiday became tradition. He could even make a holiday in that if he wanted to. An anniversary, but still something he could celebrate with a good fuck.

 

Thanksgiving was right coming up on him. In just a few hours, actually. He'd spent all day preparing a grand feast, complete with a turkey stuffed to the brim with steaming stuffing, yams with a marshmallow topping, mashed potatoes with a thick, savory gravy, jellied cranberries, and, to top everything off, a beautiful pumpkin pie. And none of it was for eating. Except the yams and jellied cranberries. He'd promised to bring some kind of side dish to the Dakota household, and he was going through with that; so he wrapped the yams up with cling wrap and stuffed it in the fridge to chill while he spent some sweet alone time with the decadent buffet before him. Wash took in a deep whiff of the delicacies sitting perfectly on his table. How innocently they were perched, like something out of a home catalogue. If only they knew the true purpose of his cooking endeavor.

 

Washington cleaned off the counters in the kitchen before grabbing the box of condoms he'd set aside for his grand finale. He needed them this time; he could get away with the pumpkin bare, but he's heard the horror stories of sugar near genitals too many times not to be on the safe side. Plus this barrier allowed him to keep the food heated up a little while longer. There was just no pleasure in lukewarm turkey, after all. He stripped down bare, freeing himself with a few shakes and stretches. Wash always loved his body: his freckles, his scars, even the bullet wound in his left shoulder. It all made up who he was, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t strut his stuff, scratches and all.

 

He stroked himself, feeling the blood start filling him up enough to roll the condom down over his length. Now _that_ was something he didn’t need to have confidence about. The length and girth was enough to satisfy anyone, and perfect for shutting up those that complain about him being a size queen. Wash snickered at the double entente.

 

He kneeled before the beautifully golden turkey before him, running the tips of his fingers gently over the top of it and trailing them down to the opening that was overflowing with stuffing. It was gorgeous; perfect for deep-seating himself into its warmth. But not yet. He had to savor this, had to draw it out or else he’d be taking much more food with him to the Dakota’s than he’d promised, and that’d be no fun.

 

Wash pulled the entry to the turkey open wider, sliding his tongue in far enough to pull out a few pieces of stuffing and roll it around with his lips. He lapped at the opening, sliding in two fingers to play with the warm breading. This was his favorite version of eating out; tasted much better this way and could keep up with his pace. He pushed more fingers in, moving his head just enough to continue his tongue around the four fingers now shoved in the turkey. He pumped them in and out, just as he would with any other lover, even going so far as to crook his fingers at the exact angle all his lovers enjoy. Enough to just tease the pleasure without giving anything directly. It was too early in his fun for anything direct.

 

Washington pulled his hand out and curled it into a fist, reinserting it after pulling his head out from the turkey’s silky confides. He started slowly at first, twisting his wrist just barely to tease the entrance before gently pushing further and further in. He shuddered at the warmth enveloping his fist, stilling for just a minute before pumping his arm in and out. In and out. In and out. Wash reveled in the rhythm he was setting up for himself, fully taking advantage of the fact that the turkey couldn’t feel pain and he could be as rough as he wanted.

 

He pulled out his hand, taking the flesh of the turkey breast in his mouth and leaving a solid bite mark, lapping at the greasy and savory skin. Fucking had never tasted so good before he started giving into this side of himself. Wash let up on the breast with a wet trail of spit as he moved up onto the table to position himself for the main event. He stroked his half hard cock in loose but tight motions, eventually lining himself up with the turkey’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, allowing himself to warm up to the temperature inside the stuffing and relishing in the sick squelching of the breading inside adjust to him. God, it was absolute bliss. Nothing could _ever_ touch this feeling of complete and total warmth. Pure bliss.

 

Wash moved in small thrusts at first, placing his hands on the sides of the turkey to ensure that it didn’t fall apart as he was busying himself. He sped up after a few more test thrusts, fully losing himself in the confines of the bird beneath him. It was so good, the stuffing giving him just the right amount of pressure around his cock and the turkey keeping all that warmth and steam inside. This was almost better than fucking the fresh pumpkins from the pumpkin patch. Almost.

 

He could feel himself approaching the edge quickly. He couldn’t afford to cut this short, he still had a whole feast to get through. Washington wrapped a hand around the base of his dick, cutting off any chance of him spilling as he pulled out with a soft pop and a small whimper. He didn’t want to leave the warmth of the turkey, but his curiosity to feel all the other textures around him was too overwhelming to ignore. He _had_ to find out what those creamy mashed potatoes would feel like with gravy spilled on top of it; maybe even lick it off himself. He was flexible enough for it.

 

Wash smiled deviously as he pushed the turkey away and brought the bowl of mashed potatoes closer, sliding the gravy boat along with it. He fingered the rim of the bowl gently before plunging his hand in and pulling out a milky white lump. He took a deep breath before spreading the substance along his length in slow motions, moving the potato along with his fingers. If he thought the warmth from the turkey was bliss, _this_ must be nirvana. The heat from the potatoes was still steaming and rolling off him, just begging to be licked and sucked off. He felt a pang of arousal shoot through him just at the thought, sealing the decision for him. Wash grabbed at the gravy boat, pouring a thin line along his shaft before deciding not to hold back and dumping enough of the liquid for it to spill across the table and lap and his thighs. He moaned at the dirtiness this little sexcapade was.

 

Washington moved to a position that made himself accessible to his tongue and dove in, taking himself in one go and taking most of the mashed potatoes with him, swallowing just as he hit the tip of himself. He lapped at the gravy stuck around the head of his cock and sunk back down, cleaning the remnants off the condom. He hollowed his cheeks, eliciting a groan which just sent more pangs of pleasure through his cock. That was his breaking point, and his orgasm hit him hard, whole body spasming as his cum was caught by the condom. He stroked himself through the last of the waves and hopped off the table, tying the condom off and trashing it as soon as his feet hit the ground.

 

Wash wiped the table and his thighs clean of the gravy, giving himself a fresh new surface to please himself with the remaining food items. He pushed the turkey to the other end of the table, placing the delectable pumpkin pie on the edge in front of him. In a stroke of thought, he ran to his room and grabbed one of his favorite holiday themed toys as well as the accompanying lube. It was a glass Devil’s tongue toy, colored a gorgeously dark shade of red. Sure, it may not be right for Thanksgiving, but it did so damn well at getting him off that he didn’t really care whether or not it fit the theme.

 

He returned to the kitchen table once more, pulling out the last condom from the box and rolling it on, careful not to overstimulate himself. Wash started by pouring the lube onto his fingers, leaning over the table to spread his cheeks apart and tease his hole. He ran the pad of his thumb lightly across the puckering, moving in small and torturous circles before pushing his index finger in fully. He squirmed under the pain, adjusting to the intrusion. Washington had always felt it best to just get it over with than draw out the pain. He pumped his finger in and out gently, awkwardness finally subsiding and pleasure taking its place. He pushed back onto his own digits, inserting a second finger and teasing his prostate. Wash moaned deeply, making more and more keening noises as he inserted a third. It was times like these he was glad he lived alone.

 

He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, lamenting at the absence of his hand. He lubed up the tip of the Devil’s tongue and set it aside to hop back on the table. Wash adjusted the pumpkin pie in front of him, placing it in prime position to skim the underside of his shaft. Everything was turning out so perfect.

 

He teased himself with the Devil’s tongue, running it from behind his balls and up the perineum. He shuddered at the cool lap of the glass around his entrance, and pushing the tip of it in with a sizable moan. God, did he love this toy. Wash groaned, pushing the toy in further and fucking himself with it slowly to match the pace he was setting up for the main dessert of this all. The pie was thick and cold around his length, the creaminess of it evident in every thrust he gave. He pushed harder, fucking himself raw on the Devil’s tongue and almost destroying the pumpkin pie. Wash kept like this as long as he could before pulling out of the pie and focusing more on pumping the Devil’s tongue towards his prostate. He pumped his cock fast, feeling the precipice of orgasm coming onto him fast. The pleasure kept building, his senses going wild from the glass, his hand, and the pieces of pie still stuck to the condom that were sliding with each ministration.

 

Wash moaned, finally reaching the finish line and spilling his second load into the condom, shuddering with each wave of bliss moving through him, vision whiting-out for a few seconds from the intensity. When he finally came to, he pulled the tongue out from him with a satisfying pop and set it one the table beside the disheveled pumpkin pie. He leaned back on the table, taking a few moments to admire his handiwork. The beautiful feast he’d prepared had been fucked raw and spent just as he had, and he reveled in it.

 

Washington hopped off the table, disposing of his condom in the trash along with the other and taking the Devil’s tongue back to his room. As much as he’d love to go for round three, he had to get cleaned up. After all, he did have an actual feast to get to, and he wasn’t going to be late again. A devious smile spread across his face.

 

Maybe being a few more minutes late wouldn’t be _too_ bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You all need to repent your sins for reading this.


End file.
